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phantom-curve · 4 years

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find the strength, find the melody pt. 5

this is still a working title. I just can’t decide if it fits or not, so feel free to offer any suggestions! once I finish this fic I’m going to go back and reblog it in it’s entirety and I promise I will finalize and update the title for all the reblogs to make it easier to find in the future. I’m probably also going to post the completed fic to AO3, possibly with some slight editing updates. I’ll add the link once that’s active.

also, I want you all to know that I almost missed a typo in this chapter that would have had Julie biting her nip instead of her lip so you’re welcome for that.

also also, this chapter solidified my decision to write this fic from Luke’s perspective once I finish Julie’s. my god, the things happening in this boy’s head during this scene had me taking a bath and calling my husband for cuddles at 2pm. HE’S JUST TOO SOFT. Reggie and Alex will be more prominent in his story. their characters are so fun to write, but harder to work into Julie’s story until it’s closer to the end.

to be fully honest, I’m not entirely happy with the cut-off on this chapter, but I felt like y'all deserved all 3,084 words after a 6 day hiatus so I had to pick a slightly more awkward end spot. hope it makes up for taking so long to update!

tag list (lmk if you want me to add you!): @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder, @kat-maybe-not

Julie didn’t expect to see Luke the next day. When her alarm went off at 6:45 that morning, she woke up with a start, heart racing as memories of last night flooded back. She had been ready to defend herself and Luke to her father, but it had been business as usual in the Molina household. Her father had gotten up like normal and gone about his morning without any hiccups from a very cute, unexpected teenage boy showing up. Julie could hear him leaving for work now, calling up a loving goodbye to her in between shouts at Carlos to hurry his butt into the car. When she peeked out of her window at the studio it looked exactly the same as it always did, empty and still. For a moment, she was sure that she dreamed the entire thing.

Something felt different in her soul though. Realigned, like a part of her she didn’t realize was missing had finally made its way back home. Everything in her body felt lighter as she got dressed and floated down the stairs to grab her breakfast. She was riding high on cloud nine, humming actually humming! under her breath as she moved around the kitchen, when a loud rap at the back door startled her. Flynn would have just walked in so it couldn’t be her. Her dad, too, would have simply run inside if he had forgotten something. It wasn’t until she was already reaching for the door handle that she recognized the electricity sparking in the air. She opened the door to a now familiar pair of puppy dog eyes waiting on the other side.

“I thought I told you to leave by 6:30 so my dad wouldn’t see you.”

Julie tried to make her voice snappy, but it was so hard when he was standing there, bobbing and weaving in the early morning sunshine, eyes shining, lips curved into the sweetest smile. He took her words in stride. His smile stretched as his head dipped with a charming amount of bashfulness. She realized with a jolt that he had been doing that for days now, ever since she ran into him after her meeting with Ms. Harrison. Just rolling right through every punch she threw at him like it was nothing. Her walls slipped a little lower.

“I thought I could make you breakfast. You know, as a thank you for last night.”

Her brain short circuited. Luke Patterson...wanted to...make her breakfast? She had to turn the words over in her mind a few times before they began to make sense. Julie studied him for a moment, noticing that he seemed much more like his normal confident self this morning. Gone was the unsteady boy that had stood in her mom’s studio doorway last night. Still, one shoulder was hitched a little higher than the other, his fingers flexing against the backpack strap slung over it. His face was open and eager, but she could detect the hint of nervousness that he was trying to cover up. She caught a faint whiff of jasmine as a slight breeze blew past them and immediately zeroed in on the damp wisps of hair curling around his neck. The thought of Luke in her shower, using her soap was almost her undoing. Desperately trying to get a hold on the situation, she leaned against the open doorway, crossing her arms across her chest in what she hoped was a nonchalant movement.

“I thought we were going to pretend last night didn’t happen.”

His smile faltered a little bit, his free hand flying up to scratch at the back of his neck. His bouncing shifted to rocking, and Julie felt the change in his demeanor like a punch to her gut.

“Yeah...okay...I mean if that’s what you want. I’ll uh, see you around, Molina.”

His voice lacked its typical singsong quality, rejection flattening the lilt she had become accustomed to. Pain bloomed in Julie’s chest, familiar and foreign all at the same time. It wasn’t like the pain she was used to, wasn’t connected to her mom or her music. This pain was all about Luke and the fact that she had just hurt him for no reason at all. Shame rolled through her stomach in a nauseous wave. Luke was already adjusting the bag higher on his shoulder, turning away from her, body language all but screaming “leave me alone”. It didn’t stop her from reaching out and laying a hand against his shoulder.

“Luke.”

His name was a plea and an apology rolled into one. She felt the ripple of his muscles as his body reacted to it, dropping her hand only when he turned to face her. Their eyes caught, the air sparking between them.

“What were you going to make?”

His brow furrowed in confusion, his eyes never leaving hers. She knew she had to do better, but God, it was hard to face your feelings after bottling them up for so long.

“For breakfast. I usually just grab a Pop-Tart to eat on my walk to school. Do you actually cook every morning?”

Luke was still staring. Julie bit her lip, the tail end of a nervous giggle that she couldn’t quite suppress all the way slipping out. The sound seemed to jolt him out of whatever trance he was in. In two seconds, he was back to bouncing on the balls of his feet, arms loose at his sides once more.

“Yeah, I do.”

The shy smile on his lips did something to Julie’s insides that she wasn’t willing to investigate just yet.

“Usually eggs, but sometimes waffles or pancakes on the weekends. Bacon if the boys are coming over. It’s the most important meal of the day, ya know.”

His eyes were bright again, practically glowing like they usually did when he started talking about something he was passionate about. Julie had only ever seen him like this when he was going off on another music related rant in class. Who knew breakfast foods could be so inspiring?

“Well, that sounds a lot better than strawberry Pop-Tarts.”

She turned, leaving the door open as she started to walk back towards the kitchen. She could hear Luke hesitate in the doorway, but all it took was one look over her shoulder and he was rushing in after her, quietly closing the door in his wake. They walked to the kitchen in silence, Julie trying to figure out what the hell was happening in her head and heart the entire time.

The instant Luke entered the kitchen it was like she was seeing a completely different side of him. He was quick and sure with all of his movements, taking only a few minutes to find everything he needed without even asking her for guidance. The muscles of his forearm rippled as he whisked the eggs together, the flick of his wrist just as mesmerizing now as when he played guitar. His confidence on stage had always been awe-inspiring, the way he moved and the energy he gave off undeniably cool and sure, never an ounce of doubt that he was anything other than amazing. It was a way for him to prove he was the best of the best, show that he had fully earned the title of “Rockstar”.

This moment in her sunny kitchen showed a quieter confidence. Nothing flashy or showy, just Luke doing something he clearly enjoyed for no other reason than the fact that he liked it. The rock god attitude had always been surface-level hot, sure, but this kind of domestic comfortability was an entirely new level of attractive. Julie felt her mouth go dry, the tips of her ears growing warm the longer she watched him. He hummed under his breath, the sound reverberating in her soul and sending little shivers up and down her spine. It wasn’t until he was sliding a plate of steaming scrambled eggs and toast in front of her that she finally recognized the melody. Her breath caught and he met her eyes with a gentle expression.

“I told you already, it’s an incredible song.”

He grabbed his own plate and lowered himself into the chair next to hers at the bar. He immediately began shoveling eggs in his mouth. Julie took a few bites of her own food, pleasantly surprised at how good it was. Then an ugly thought took over her brain. She dropped her fork, turning to stare at Luke with a dark intensity she couldn’t control.

“Did you...did you play my mom’s song?”

She couldn’t keep the betrayal out of her voice. It echoed in the room, low and hollow, like the sound of tomb closing. Luke’s own fork fell with a clatter.

“Julie, no.”

His voice was just as desperate, filled with pain and apology.

“I swear to you, no. I wouldn’t do that. I knew what it was as soon as I found it. I couldn’t hurt you like that. I never even showed it to Reggie or Alex.”

She believed him. The look on his face, the tone of his voice, proved to her that he wasn’t lying. Then, his cheeks turned a very light pink.

“I just...sometimes...I would read it. Not around the guys.”

He was quick to add that part in there, like he was assuring her he could protect the things that were important to her. Like he was promising to protect her. She could tell he was a little uncomfortable with the revelation, but he pushed through anyway.

“Just like...at night before bed...or when I was stuck on a song and needed some inspiration.”

His eyes rose to meet hers, some tender emotion she couldn’t identify lurking in their oceanic depths.

“I meant it when I said you’re an incredible songwriter. Sometimes...”

His cheeks darkened, ears flaming red to match.

“Sometimes...it was almost like I could hear you playing it.”

The last part was said so quietly she almost missed it. She felt her face go slack. Who was this guy and what had he done with the normal, cocky Lucas Patterson? The gentleness of his words, the way his eyes were drilling into hers like he could see all the way down to the depths of her soul, had her blinking against the sudden emotion clogging her throat.

“Last night was the first time I ever played it.”

The confession sprung from her lips without second thought. She had to do something, anything to break whatever tension seemed to be thickening between them with each passing second. Luke tilted his head, another warm smile gracing his lips.

“You were even more amazing than I could have ever dreamed. You’re like a human wrecking ball, Julie. It’s insane how talented you are.”

So much for breaking the tension. Julie sucked in a breath, her heart stuttering in her chest. It was only then that she realized how close their bodies had become, each one leaning farther into the other as their conversation went on. There were only inches between them now, Luke’s lyrical voice curling into her ear with a delicious intimacy she couldn’t help but crave. If she got any closer to him their foreheads would touch, their nose would brush, their lips would...

And just like that she was on the ground, her backside stinging from slamming into the hardwood so abruptly. Luke blinked down at her, eyes still swimming with that damnable affection, but also tinged with confusion. In her desperate attempt to bail, she must have leaned too far back, falling off the barstool before she could even realize what would happen. She shook her head to clear the spell Luke had been spinning before looking past him to the clock on the oven.

“We should probably leave for school now unless we want to be late.”

She ignored the breathy way her voice came out, pushing herself to a standing position. Without making eye contact, she wove her way around Luke. He was like a block of ice in his chair, still poised to lean into her completely. She scooped up their half-eaten breakfasts, plopping them loudly into the sink before slipping her arms through her backpack straps. Nowhere left to hide, she turned back towards the brunette boy.

He stared at her for a long moment, the hot frustration in his gaze burning through her and making her want to squirm. For a second, she thought he was going to push it, but then his eyes closed for what felt like an eternity. When they opened again, he seemed resigned. She could detect just a hint of his previous fiery intensity, the rest of it shrouded behind an almost forlorn veil of acceptance.

“If that’s what you want.”

There was a deeper meaning to his words that Julie wasn’t prepared for. Her breathing faltered, the silence between them heavy with the things he was leaving unsaid. She almost gave in. Almost asked him just what, exactly, he wanted right now. But she didn’t need to ask him because she could read it plain on his face. It terrified her. And Julie had become an expert at avoiding things that scared her in this past year. So, instead, she gave him a tight nod and zipped out the front door to wait for him outside.

In the clear sunshine of another beautiful LA day, she was finally able to breathe again. Out here, away from the thick tension of the kitchen, it was easier to tell herself Luke was just being nice. Easier to pretend their little moment inside was just some friendly banter. Easier to ignore the implications of Luke’s serious words and caring tone. She gulped in deep breaths, willing her head and heart to cool down. She heard the click of the door latching shut behind her, turned to see Luke standing there, a small pout on his lips, face entirely unrepentant. Good lord she was in trouble.Then a realization hit. She clung to it, desperately hoping it would get them back on a more neutral page, pull them out of whatever had been simmering between them all morning.

“Where’s your car? I know you didn’t drive over here last night.”

Luke’s face changed immediately, chagrin taking over every feature. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he shoved his hands in the front of his jeans.

“I uh...I only live a few houses away from you...”

Now it was Julie’s turn to gape like a fish. Luke Patterson was her neighbor? Since when?

“My parents...we moved to the neighborhood a couple years ago. I...uhm well...”

His hand rose again to scratch at his neck, and she had never wanted to grab at him more than in this moment. That movement was slowly beginning to drive her crazy. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and blurted it out in one garbled sentence.

“Iusedtohidearoundthecornerandlistentoyouandyourmomplayinthestudiopleasedon’thateme.”

Julie was so stunned she nearly tumbled off the top step as she staggered backwards. Only Luke’s quick reflexes saved her from falling flat on her back for the second time that morning. His eyes darted around her face, clearly trying to figure out if she was about to lose it on him or not. Julie struggled to process the info dump she had gotten from Luke in the last couple of days. All of her preconceived notions were slowly being proven wrong and she wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with that. Life was easier when Luke was just another selfish, swaggering upperclassman. How long had she been in his orbit? Years it sounded like. The realization was staggering.

“You...you listened to us play? Why?”

Luke still had his hands wrapped around her wrists. Julie couldn’t find it in her to break the connection. Her voice came out more broken than she intended, memories of sunlit days singing with her mom invading her mind. Luke remembered those days too?

“Haven’t you been listening?”

His voice was strained, his eyes boring into hers like he was trying to telepathically force her to understand. His fingers flexed against her skin, the movement causing a flurry of butterflies to erupt in her stomach.

“You’re a star, Julie Molina. I couldn’t help getting sucked into your orbit.”

Julie felt her eyelids flutter, her chest squeezing like it was going to burst from the rapid inhale/exhale she couldn’t seem to calm. He said her name like a prayer, his lips turning it into something holy and sacred. She was drowning in Luke’s gaze, a riot of emotions swirling around in her brain. Somehow, because he was Luke and apparently he knew her better than she ever expected him to, he could tell that his declaration had gone a little too far. Easing back, he released his hold and rocked away from her just a bit to give her the space she so desperately needed. His eyes were still impossibly soft, bordering on adoration as he watched her come to terms with his bold announcement. Finally, once Julie was pretty sure she had come back down to Earth, he jogged down the front steps.

“We can still drive if you want to, but I think it’s a pretty nice morning for a walk if you’re up for it.”

“Okay.”

It felt like the smallest possible acceptance she could offer him, but the way Luke lit up in response made her want to melt. Head still swimming, she made her way down the steps on shaky baby deer legs. Luke didn’t push, just fell in step with her as easy as pie. Every once in a while, his fingers would brush against her hand, and it took every scrap of will power to keep herself from just reaching out and linking their hands together.

They passed a house bursting with flowers out front. Julie’s eyes caught on an explosion of bright red in the corner of the yard. Dahlias. Her mother’s favorite. It felt like a sign, and another part of Julie’s soul slipped quietly back into place. The next time Luke’s hand knocked against hers she shyly allowed their fingers to tangle. She didn’t need to look to see the smile break out on his face. She could feel the warmth of it filling the air around her like her own personal sun. He squeezed just once. Just enough to acknowledge the move for what it was. She didn’t let go until the school appeared in the distance.

#y'all know the EXACT pout face I'm referencing in this one #also i love working show dialogue into fic dialogue #also also soft boy Luke is going to be THE DEATH OF ME #FUCKING KILL ME WITH YOUR SOFTNESS LUCAS I AM READY #Mads writes #Mads speaks #bless these babies for giving me less angst and more fluff this time #julie and the phantoms #jatp #juke #julie x luke #luke x julie #palina #julie molina #luke patterson #juke fanfic #jatp fanfic #find the strength find the melody

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notmydiagnoses · 5 years

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Topic: Boundaries, Because I Have None

So, I was going through FB like two minutes ago and came across this post:

Last week at therapy, I told my therapist I was interested in doing the Radical Acceptance piece. She looked at me like I done lost my marbles, but I feel it’s a very important part of DBT but also just living as well. The Radical Acceptance portion has to do with allowing things to happen, and acknowledging what you’re in control of versus what you’re not able to control. It’s understanding that things happen but you are the only one who can choose how it affects you.

I’ve never learned boundaries. You can ask any of my friends or exes, whatever. When boundaries are established *for* me, I feel it’s a personal attack.

Last night, I attended a wedding for a coworker who was getting married where my ex-boyfriend had gone to college back in 2015. I’ve never been to the campus, I didn’t think much of it. Upon arriving, I felt so insecure, irritable, worthless, and emotional (which then turned into me feeling numb.) The Negative Nancy in my head was like “he gave you up for this; you weren’t good enough” etc. I felt like I was drowning in so much mental negativity.

The wedding was absolutely beautiful, hot but an experience nonetheless. At the reception, my co-worker’s boyfriend sat next to me. There were things he kept doing that just reminded me of my ex, so it’s like I couldn’t escape it. I became so exhausted. All my coworkers took note of how noninteractive I was. I tried to force interactions but I kept tearing up. I don’t think this was a situation I could’ve ever prepared myself for. I left just before it was time to eat. I told my coworkers that I was going to head home since it was an hour and a half drive, because I felt that was better than just disappearing but then they all started asking questions. I kept insisting I was fine. I was then distracted with trying to find my way to my car, that all my emotions eased for a second. I entered the parkade and broke down as I made the trip three levels down.

I got into my car and was venting to myself about how forced so many of my interactions are with people I pursue, and how I miss the feeling of it being organic. I told myself I need to learn to start thinking of myself and what *I* need and want, instead of trying to make others happy because, time and time again, I’m the one who ends up hurt. And for what? All it does is lower my self esteem and my self worth. But I know I’m worthy.

I deserve the love that everyone else gets to experience. I’m angry, nonetheless, that my family never taught me how to love myself. I spent the night Googling “what does it mean to love yourself? How to fall in love with yourself?” etc., and it honestly seems like the most simplest of things. However, I remained insecure as fuck the entire drive home. I thought about how I just wanted to delete all my dating sites and focus on me. I lost 40lbs last year, and have gained about 15lbs back. I feel disgusted with myself. I keep making excuses to fuck up, despite knowing how junk food makes me feel: migraines, nauseous, tired, and not really energized. I also freaking hate fast food, but I can’t stop.

I started thinking back to all the pressure I’ve put on myself since I was a child. I need to take care of my brother; I need to be financially secure; I need to be married by 23; I need to have a kid before 30, and then I realized... I don’t. I don’t want to get married. Sure, I want kids someday but 30 isn’t a bad age to have them, and I’m not in a place to have kids right now anyway. I need to stop putting myself through the ringer for this bullshit.

I think the saying “you can’t love anyone else until you love yourself” is complete bullshit. I feel that your ability to love others proves you’re capable of loving yourself. I’m happy with who I am as a human being overall. Sure, I fuck up and do shitty things but that’s because I’m not perfect and I’m learning.

So, last night was almost like establishing a boundary for me: I wasn’t in a good state of mind, so I needed to go. I needed “me time” to process how I was feeling. I want to be in love someday; I’m 27 and have yet to experience it. However, I don’t think it’s something I’m ready for.

I thought last night about how I’d much rather work on being healthier again, doing things with my brother, and doing more activities that make me happy. I’m writing this all out as a way to hold myself accountable.

This happened, Stephanie. You can do it. No more forced bullshit out of concern for them, or desperation for yourself to experience love. Go ice skating, learn to dance, take your brother out.

#dbt #bpd #borderline personality disorder #dbt therapy #dbt workbook #thoughts

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stephhannes · 5 years

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if you love something, give it away

it all boils down to one quotable phrase: if you love something, give it away

i’ve been writing about nathan since i was 13, and this has been the hardest piece i’ve tried to write. as soon as nathan died, i knew that i wanted to have something special to publish on our anniversary. originally, that was a book of essays- i made a little headway on that, but grief made it hard to actually accomplish anything of substance. it took a lot just to try to get out one blog post a month. but now that i think about an entire book of essays- i think maybe that wouldn’t have been the right move.

here’s the thing: nathan and i have had a long and dramatic history, and when we started actually dating, i put a lot of our past stories in a vault. i threw out journals, i deleted old blog posts, i got rid of a lot of the bad stuff because it was unhealthy to hold onto it, to carry it into our relationship. we (obviously) both grew up a lot since we met when we were 11. thinking about all of the years of chasing each other and being terrible to each other was so detrimental to my mental health, and after (a decent amount of) therapy and just growing up in general, i got over it. there’s enough drama just in the month leading up to us getting together, that there’s really no need to focus on all of the drama from high school.

i’ve spent a lot of time thinking about if we would have ended up together if we had met in a different timeline. we were incredibly similar in the sense that our morals and general beliefs aligned, but the way that we interacted with the world and processed events and saw things were so incredibly different. our relationship was a dream, but was it so great because we were genuinely inherently compatible? or were we so compatible because we had grown up together?

but maybe that’s just how it works.

we stuck to each other because in abilene, we were the same. we were both too smart for our own good, we were both kind of arrogant about that fact. we were the only people who were like that so of course we gravitated toward each other. but if we had met in austin, or in new york somewhere down the line when we weren’t kids- would we have ended up together?

on the other hand, even though we initially were brought together by circumstance, we still spent time apart. i left abilene for college, we both dated other people, we both went through our respective garbage human undergrad phases- and we still came back to each other after all of that.

that was always the beauty of our relationship. we always came home. we always came back to each other.

i said goodbye to him so many times. junior year of high school, we kissed for the first time and we both read the situation completely differently. after that first kiss he was like “i’ve always wanted to do that,” and i was like “yeah, i know.” not trying to be dismissive, i was just so in shock and didn’t know how to use words. i left that day thinking “oh holy shit we’re finally going to be together, dope!” and he read it as “oh she’s definitely not interested.” we never discussed it, he just started dating someone else a couple of weeks later, and that was when i told myself i was never going to talk to him again. at that point, i’d spent a couple of years on the backburner in his life. it was this weird place because we were so insanely close- we were absolutely in love with each other, but he was always in another relationship. that was my last straw. i didn’t make a big deal out of it, i just quietly cut him out of my life. and surprisingly, i was thriving.

and then at the end of junior year, something terrible happened in his life. and i remember having a small moral dilemma of “i know that he needs me but also i told myself i’d never talk to him again and that’s actually been going pretty well for me,” but me, being the good friend that i am, took one for the team and texted him. “hey, i know we haven’t been the best of friends lately, but i love you and i’m here for you if you need anything.” to which he replied, “oh my god. you’re the one person i’ve wanted to talk to today. it’s my fault things have been bad between us. i’m so sorry.”

we saw each other a few times after that, but he dropped out of high school and went to college a year early after that event so for the most part- we lost touch.

my sophomore year of college, back in 2015, we reconnected. i texted him out of the blue after telling one of my friends all about our history and feeling inspired, was like “hey i miss you” and that weekend he came to austin to see me. and that weekend was so special. leading up to that point, we actually really hadn’t spent much time alone together. in high school i think we saw each other outside of class approximately three times, i visited his dorm once when he was in college, but other than that this was really our first time spending quality time together. i lived right near campus, which was a hell that weekend, because it was round-up, which meant the drunk frat stars were out in full force, but i showed him around campus, took him to my favorite thai place (where he ordered something that was so spicy it had the word ‘cry’ in the name) and fell asleep next to him for the first time. it was perfect.

and then after that weekend we didn’t talk again for eight months.

i saw him again when i was in abilene for thanksgiving. this was the first time i’d seen him since my dad died and i remember going to his apartment, drinking a bottle of moscato and just sobbing like a weirdo for 30 minutes at one point.

january 2016 was the first time i spent the night at his apartment, and then as patterns have shown, we didn’t talk for a few months after that.

spring break 2016 was when we became inseparable again. we were constantly texting, especially when he came to new york to commit to columbia. we were functionally in a relationship but without the actual commitment, which is the thing that i wanted. i was still trying to keep my distance emotionally at this point, partially because i knew that he was about to move and partially because by now, i’d found out that he had a girlfriend and i wasn’t about to play the “i’m in love with stephanie but i’m also going to have a girlfriend and put stephanie on the backburner sometimes” game again. i couldn’t do it.

and then i caught feelings and things got a lot more complicated.

by this point, nathan had already been like “blah blah blah i’m so in love with you” “blah blah blah you make me really happy” and for awhile i was just like “ok that’s cool my dude, but i’m not getting involved again” until i caved and was like “yeah shit, i’m in love with you again too.” i remember about a week before that convo, i was sitting in his room literally watching him fill out the columbia couples’ housing form for him and someone that was not me. i was falling right back into our same bullshit. in the middle of april 2016, he came to see me again, for the second time, in austin. he was sick that weekend so we mostly hung out around the house. and that weekend was great because i loved spending time with him, but i was also in the middle of a huge existential crisis. i knew that i deserved better than someone that saw me as second best. i deserved all of someone’s attention. as soon as he left, i texted him and said something that started the worst fight we’ve ever gotten into: “i’m sorry. i can’t do this anymore. we can’t keep doing this.” he texted me pretty shortly after that to ask what i meant, “like what about it? every time i get more than ten feet away from you you decide you don’t want me anymore.”

i elaborated to say, “i deserve more than someone i get to see once every few months. every time you leave it’s just another reminder that you’re not really mine and it’s not fair. i love you so god damn much and it’s so hard to have this weird quasi relationship.”

and at this point, i could tell he was hurt, he responded with, “you should have just told me to go home the second i showed up. you better be fucking sure this is what you want.” i wanted to backtrack and take back what i had said, but i knew that i had to keep my feet planted on this decision.

however, i did eventually say, “at least it finally felt like you chose me for once.”

and he responded with something that sounded nice in the moment, “of course i did, it’s more than that, i’ve always been at a point of destroying everything for you. every step i take with you makes it harder to leave. i did pick you, i love you. i picked you even though i knew it had to end and it would make things harder.”

but that wasn’t the point i was trying to make. technically, what he said was true, in that moment, he chose me, but he wasn’t ultimately choosing me, so i said, “you say that, but it’s not really true. i have always been and will probably continue to always be a second choice. that’s not really picking me.”

this is his response i think about the most, “i can’t do this. at least not until i’ve had time to think before i say anything. you better know that i care about you because i would never let anybody else make me feel like this. i don’t know if i want to cry or throw up. honest to god, you fucking broke me today. i wanted to be yours and you’ll never see it as more than being some side piece. if i wanted to be in abilene, i would have been there. i wanted to be in austin so i could be yours.”

finally, i left off with, “can you really blame me for feeling that way though? it’s not unjustified. i love you so fucking much and that’s why this is all so hard for me to deal with. i really did feel like you were finally mine. but at the end of the day, you have someone else that’s not me. i don’t have anyone else, and every time you leave, i never know if you’ll come back to me or not.”

after that, we took some time to cool off and didn’t talk for a few days. it felt terrible. i felt constantly nauseous. it was the week before finals and i couldn’t focus on anything. i remember sitting in a private study room in the library and sobbing while trying to write essays. that weekend, i drove to abilene because i knew that we needed to resolve this in person. we had vaguely resolved the issue over text over the course of that week, but things still didn’t feel great. we had talked about trying to be friends when he moved to nyc, but i knew that wasn’t realistic. i was planning on moving to LA and at one point he asked me if my job would ever bring me to new york, and if it did then could we hang out when i was in town. and yes, it would have, but that’s not what i want. i didn’t want to see him once every few years. i wanted to see him every day. it was all or nothing.

that week was the first time that i came face to face with the concept of losing nathan in a permanent way. if we didn’t resolve this, we would have never spoken again. i was in shock when nathan died, but i honestly don’t think anything compares to the absolute pain i was in that week.

at this point, i knew a few things to be true. 1) nathan was about to move to new york. 2) i didn’t want to lose him. 3) we were definitely very much in love with each other.

so i went to abilene and left that weekend giving him an ultimatum. “if you still want to be with me in a year, i swear to god i’ll fly to new york the second i graduate.” and when i gave that ultimatum, i expected this to happen: i expected him to move to new york with his girlfriend, forget that i exist, we both move on. but i think we both knew that that’s never what would happen. to my surprise, immediately after that, he broke up with his girlfriend. that was april 28th, 2016.

on april 30th, my roommate and i went to 6th street for my birthday and i got totally obliterated. i don’t remember much from that night other than a) i ended up trying to walk home from 6th street, got lost and ended up on I-35 and then was like “ok maybe i should call a car” and b) that every single time a dude tried to hit on me i played the “i have a boyfriend” card in the most obnoxious way. the second they tried to ask me about my life i would just be like “OK SO I’M MOVING TO NEW YORK AFTER I GRADUATE because my BOYFRIEND is getting his masters from COLUMBIA.…” i also remember at one point my roommate and i were talking to a pair of friends, and the guy i was talking to was getting a little bold and said, “ok so are we all going to go back to y’alls apartment?” and i was having none of it and responded, “well, us three (me, my friend, and the guy she was into) are going back, i don’t know where you’re gonna go…” anyways, shortly after that my roommate and i got into some weird drunk fight in the middle of 6th and went our separate ways to go home (which makes no sense because we live in the same home but whatever, i digress) when i made it home at like 3am, i immediately called nathan and told him about everything that had happened that night. then i passed out. the next morning i looked through my phone and saw we had talked for like 3 hours so of course i texted him and was like “uhhhh what did we talk about for three hours” and he was like “mostly you complained but also you kept calling me your boyfriend” and i was like oh dope.

and that’s how we officially ended up together.

things were a lot easier when we were together. it felt like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders because i didn’t have to worry about how things were going to end up between us.

i remember texting one of my friends after we had gotten together to tell her i was moving to new york in a year and she was like “uhhh are you sure you wanna move in with someone so soon? especially because y’all are going to be long distance for most of that time?” and i was just like “yeah definitely, i’ve never been more sure of anything before.” there was never a question of “is this the right choice?” it was the only choice. it was the only choice that i wanted.

we waited until may 6th to tell people we were together. mostly because we wanted it to be just ours for a little bit, but also because i was going to be in abilene that day for his undergrad graduation and we wanted to be together when we did it.

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because nothing can truly ever be easy for us, we spent the first nine months of our relationship long distance. we got through it by daydreaming about what living together would be like, and how much we wanted to just be able to fall asleep together and like….our wedding… and stuff. when he left for new york, we both cried. it was tough. but it was going to be fine because we knew it would be the last time that we would have to say goodbye, finally.

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and technically, that was the last time that he had to say goodbye. which is probably for the best. nathan had this deep fear of losing me, so much so that he would have these nightmares of me dying where he’d wake up so incredibly upset. in the early stages of our relationship, he was so in shock that we were together, mostly because for once he wasn’t in a relationship with a garbage monster and he couldn’t fathom a stable, healthy relationship. for a little bit, he was convinced that everything was too good to be true and would inevitably end terribly. after a few months and a lot of reassurance, this stopped being an issue. nathan was dependent on me in a way that i wasn’t necessarily on him and this fact always made him so nervous. i’ve always been too independent, in a way that’s absolutely hindered my life and for the first time in nathan’s life he had someone that he could actually be vulnerable around and lean on.

i’ve talked about this before, but when we got together, i started actually taking care of myself. i started to look both ways before i crossed the street, i got more careful and mindful. and i think the reason that i did this is because it was impossible for me to imagine leaving him. the other day i was watching “after life” on netflix, and there’s this one quote that stuck with me- “i’d rather live missing him than for him to live missing me. that’s how much i love him.” every once and awhile i find myself in a train of thought, “how would nathan be adjusting if he was in my position,” and i think i know the answer to that. the answer is, not well. yes, my life is inconceivably worse since losing him, but i’ve also spent the last 24 years coping with tough shit on my own, i have the tools to move on. i’m not quite sure he would have fared as well, and thinking about him trying to do it makes my heart hurt so much. it’s a burden i’m willing to bear because i’d rather it be me than him.

re-adjusting since nathan’s died has been so hard. a couple of weeks before he died, we were driving to get cheesesteaks and on that drive, we talked about our 15 year plan. we were on the same page. we’d stay in philly for three years, (but maybe move further out into the suburbs after a year), and then consider relocating to a different office. we wanted to move around as much as possible. we would get married in the winter of 2019, the wedding would be in texas- we’d figured out who would be our groomsmen and bridesmaids. we’d get a cat first and then maybe get a dog if our schedules allowed it. we would pay off his student debt.

it was weird allowing myself to plan a future. that’s something i’ve never done before. i’ve truly been winging my life for the last 24 years.

having to rewrite that future has been hard. but i’ve been doing it. i’ve been moving forward because i have to- and there are some days where i am so hesitant to do it. there are some days where all i want to do is relive my favorite days, and i let myself have those days. there are some days where i am so desperate to feel close to him again. i read old texts, i sleep in one of his shirts that smells like him. there are some days where i’m so afraid of losing memories, of losing what we had. but it doesn’t consume my life any more in the way that it used to.

the other day i read something where a girl was talking about how she refused to move on after her husband died- her friends would describe her as “being in love with a ghost,” and as soon as i heard that, i knew that’s not who i wanted to become. that was the saddest thing i’d heard. i still love nathan, i always will, but i’m not in love with him anymore.

getting engaged means planning a life together, but the last year has been about learning how to build back my own life. i’ve had to ask myself, “what do i want?” rather than, “what do we want?” i never realized how we really did become a unit- i still find myself using “we” instead of “i” when i talk about things. i never imagined my life without nathan in it, that was always unfathomable to me, but now i’ve started to adjust to it.

there are times when i’ll ask myself “well, what would nathan want me to do in this situation?” and then i have to remind myself that it doesn’t matter what he would do, he’s dead. this is my life. on a less harsh note, i do still hold onto all of the work we did trying to make me a better functioning person. one of my biggest problems is that i love to worry about things that i can’t change, so much so that it was really taking over my life. now when i find myself getting too worked up, i take a deep breath and ask myself “is there anything i can do to fix this? do i need to be this worried about this situation?” and if the answer is no, i let it go. i used to get so anxious right before bed, which may have been one of nathan’s least favorite things about me. i would hold onto everything bothering me, and then right before it was time to go to sleep i’d start trying to unpack it, and every time nathan would catch me as i started to spiral and force me to go to sleep instead of staying up all night freaking out. when i’m doing well, i try to enforce a strict bedtime. at 9pm i close my laptop, read for two hours, try to not think about things, fall asleep by midnight. the problem is, i’m very rarely doing well enough to keep up with that. but i try, and that’s all i can do.

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part of moving forward is having to remind myself of the things that i used to believe in. y’know, before i got blinded by being in love. a month after nathan died, i wrote this on my blog:

How do I navigate a new relationship with someone when I know that they will never know me as well as Nathan did? I can spend all day talking about who I was in high school, I can explain with detail every moment of my collegiate years, but no one will truly know who I was during those times because they weren’t there. Eventually, I’ll stand on two feet again, but how far can those feet carry me when the concrete underneath them is fractured beyond belief? Eventually, someone will walk beside me, but is it fair to them when I know that there will never be anyone that can compare to Nathan? There are like 8 billion people in the world and I would swipe left on every single one of them because they’re not Nathan. I was in relationships before Nathan, and they all ended for more or less that same reason, I was always waiting for something better, I was always waiting for Nathan to come around. I don’t see this problem getting any easier to navigate, especially now that we had been together for a few years.

but now, with a little more distance, and a little more clarity, i’m able to go back to my critical roots. like i talked about earlier, we were a product of our circumstances. so at some point in the future, i’ll inevitably find another circumstance. there’s this tim minchin song that’s like “and look, i’m not undervaluing what we’ve got when i say that given the role chaos inevitably plays in the inherently flawed notion of fate, it’s obtuse to deduce that i’ve found my soulmate at the age of seventeen / it’s just mathematically unlikely that at a university in perth i happen to stumble upon the one girl on earth specifically designed for me.” and that’s very similar to how i feel. what nathan and i had was dope, and loving him is my favorite thing i’ve ever done, but also it’s just statistically improbable that our relationship was the end all, be all. i definitely felt like that for awhile, and there are absolutely days where i’m like “oh i can’t believe i’ve lost the best thing that will ever happen to me,” but logically, i know things will work out. i think the issue is that i’m a taurus. i’m stubborn and i’m a creature of comfort. loving nathan was easy because we’d been doing it for twelve years. our relationship was familiar because we’d been confiding in each other since we were in middle school. for awhile, i think i got too wrapped up in the notion that “i can never find someone that knows me like he did,” but i forgot that at the beginning, we knew nothing about each other. there was a square one, i just forgot what it was like because it was so long ago.

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there was a period of time when i was having an emotional crisis because i got trapped in this mindset of “moving forward for me means moving on. everyone else gets to keep him in their life, that’s normal. but i’m expected to move on, have a new partner, leave him behind.” but then i realized, that’s absolutely not true. it’s possible to balance a new relationship while also not completely severing ties from the past. i realized this because i’ve been in this position before, but on the other side of things. add it to the list of things nathan and i have in common: we both have a dead partner. the loss that he had suffered back in high school wasn’t something that he ever let go of. it was something that was deeply ingrained in who he was, and was subsequently something that was always built into the patchwork of our relationship. the things that were important to him in our relationship were colored by his past trauma and i learned how to adapt to that- i learned how to take care of the things that he emotionally needed more help with. i let him feel the things he felt and i never made him feel bad for those emotions, even when sometimes those feelings hurt me.

so when it comes to me moving on, i still don’t exactly know how my trauma is going to manifest- but what i do know is that i have high standards for how i expect my partner to take care of me. i know that it takes a lot of sacrifices and a lot of compromise and a lot of effort to be with someone that’s suffered a loss like this- but i also know that i’m not willing to compromise on someone that can’t do that.

may 4th was always a bad day for him, and i knew that. in 2016, we were both in the middle of finals when that day rolled around. when he woke up on the 3rd, he had a terrible day. in the afternoon, i asked him how his day had been and he told me how upset he was. i told him to call me that night, we stayed on the phone until 5am, until he finally fell asleep. when he woke up on the 4th, he was feeling a lot better. later that day, he told me that me staying on the phone with him so he could calm down and go to sleep was the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for him. to me, it seemed obvious. of course i would do that. it’s such a low-effort thing that i knew would mean a lot.

my version of that was the way that nathan would put up with my terrible sleeping. when i was in college, i briefly dated someone who could not hang with the way that i wake up all the time in the middle of the night. it got to a point where he asked me to either just go home or sleep on the couch if i was spending the night because i kept waking him up and he was tired of it. after that, i was always super insecure about my sleeping patterns. when nathan and i were first dating, i would profusely apologize for being so annoying at night, but he never complained about it. he just got used to it and eventually would tell me that he was totally cool with me accidentally waking him up in the middle of the night because it gave him more time to cuddle with me at night. i’d usually fall asleep as the big spoon, and then we would separate once i was asleep. then i’d wake up at some point in the middle of the night, and so would he, and he’d turn over, put his arm around me, tell me that everything was okay, and then we’d go back to sleep. the tiniest gestures always meant so much to me. i think that’s one of the things that i’ll miss the most. his attention to detail was impeccable. he was never a grand gesture type of person, and that was okay, because superficially i think everyone wants those large gestures, but realistically, it’s the smaller things that mean more. like the time before he left for christmas vacation and he texted me to tell me that he’d bought chicken and left it in the freezer so i wouldn’t have to worry about grocery shopping because he knew that i was about to have to work a bunch of 12 hour days over the holidays. or the time that i had mentioned a candle that i really like very vaguely in passing, and then two years later he gave me that same candle for my birthday. or when he’d wake me up from my depression naps at an appropriate time so i’d still be able to sleep at night.

nathan’s memory was terrible when it came to remembering anything that happened prior to the year 2013, but sometimes he surprised me. like one day, he randomly texted me to ask “hey, you were wearing a pink shirt that first time we kissed, right?” to which i responded “it was coral but yeah” and he was like “shut up. those are the same thing” i actually couldn’t believe that he remembered that tiny detail. i felt the same way when he made a playlist for me right before we started dating. it was a mix of songs that reminded him of me, but there were two in particular that i was shocked to see. when we were in high school, on one of the three times we hung out outside of school there was one time that i remember his parents driving us back home after doing whatever it was that we were doing. we were sharing his headphones, listening to his ipod. in the duration of the drive- two songs played. of course i remembered which two played because i’m a psycho that remembers the tiniest things but when i saw those songs surface on the playlist, i couldn’t believe it. he really was good at remembering the smallest things.

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for awhile, i felt plagued by the fact that because of this situation, a lot of things immediately became clearer to me- i know that in the future i will be a better partner to someone that’s not nathan- and that concept is sometimes upsetting to me. after nathan died, i told myself that i wouldn’t keep falling into my old habits. i would fix my issues immediately. when you get engaged, you think that you have forever with someone, and i leaned too hard into that fact. i was trying to get better about the things that i was bad about, but i was doing it at this glacial pace. partially because i thought i had the time, and also because i knew nathan had the patience to put up with it. i was terrible at communication. i would play this game where i acted like everything was fine until nathan would realize that everything was not fine and then he’d have to sit and poke at me until i shared that i was feeling some sort of human emotion. in my head, i knew exactly what i wanted from him at all times, but for some reason i had this block where i wouldn’t just ask for it. he wasn’t a mindreader, but i treated him like he was, and even though it was infinitely frustrating, he would do it. the only thing nathan ever wanted to do was make my life better, and i refused to let him do it. part of me didn’t want to seem inconveniencing or like a burden- but i know that he would have been happier if i had let him help, and i know that my life would have been better if i had let him help. the week before he died, i finally reached out in a real way and i think he was so taken aback that he didn’t know how to react. it was the most progress i’d made. if i could go back in time, the only thing i would have changed is myself- i would have just forced myself to ask for help more often.

i’m still terrible at expressing emotions, talking about how i feel, in an interpersonal situation. writing about my feelings feels like a cop-out and that’s why it’s so easy for me to sit and be honest in a blog post. when you talk to someone one-on-one, they immediately react, they try to help, the focus is all on me. that makes me uncomfortable. sitting and throwing 6,000 words into the void is easy- there’s no face i have to watch react to me when i say i want to walk into traffic half of the time.

but i’ve been trying to not make everyone read my mind.

it’s hard realizing that nathan would have given me anything i wanted- if i had just asked for it. but now, moving forward i have to make myself comfortable with asking for what i want. i have to focus on taking what i need and not apologizing for it or being afraid.

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it’s almost been nine months since nathan died, which means this is the longest we’ve gone without seeing each other. april 30th would have been our three year anniversary and there’s nothing i wish that i could have had more than just spending the day with him.

when we first got together, nathan said to me, “i wish that we could have already been together for a few years but i still wouldn’t change how anything worked out.” i wish that we could have had 20 more years, but instead we had two and a half really incredible years and i wouldn’t trade that for anything. i was always so touched when he prioritized me over other things in his life. my plan was to always stand off to the side while he did what he wanted to do. when he was applying to phd programs, i knew that meant we probably wouldn’t see each other much for like five years, but i was willing to do that because all i ever wanted to do was support him and make sure he was able to accomplish what he wanted to accomplish. i always spent so much time compromising on my own happiness to ensure his- because i felt like he deserved it more than i did. i’d always known academia to be the most important thing in his life, yet he constantly kept me in mind- making sure i’d be ok with living in any of the places he was applying to. and yeah, i guess that’s what you’re supposed to do but it still meant so much to me. i think it was surprising to me because i knew that this was kind of uncharacteristic for him, he loves to avoid people. any opportunity he got to be alone, he would take. i remember once, he told me that the reason he started going to the gym so much was so he could avoid his girlfriend at that time. (this is the ONLY reason that i would work out with him when he asked me to go to the gym with him, because i knew he used to use that as an avoidance thing).

when he decided to not pursue a phd, i remember how relieved he was, which was surprising to me. but he came to this point where he was just like “look, i just want to be able to spend as much time as i can with you.” when we lived in philly, he worked from 7-3 instead of 9-5 just because it shaved a good chunk of time off of his commute home, and it also meant we were able to spend more time together when he got off of work. i am so thankful for the time we got together. for the second half of our year in new york, he only had class two days a week so we got to hang out all the time. some of my favorite memories from new york involve me getting home from work at 11, us going to the halal cart and then drinking and just talking until we went to bed at like 6am.

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when we first got together, i felt like i was dating way out of my league. nathan’s a genius, who’s good at literally everything he does- sports, music, the whole thing. i’m a goblin with an english degree. and then one day, nathan told me that he felt like i was out his league. which was shocking to me because i’m like community theatre and he’s like broadway (if we’re sticking with a sports theme though, i guess it’s like little league and the MLB or whatever). i always thought he said it just to be nice, but after time i realized that he genuinely meant it. he’d always verbally reassure me that he thought i was one of the funniest, smartest, kindest people he knows, but i found that hard to believe because he knows a lot of brilliant people. i realized he genuinely meant it because of the way he’d ask for my opinion on things. or when he’d ask me to proofread his papers. or on the off-chance when i’d let him read something i’d written and he’d be like “oh, you have a great voice.” he’s someone that only asks for help or advice from trusted sources. if he couldn’t find an answer himself, he was great at finding the most reputable person to ask, so it was always flattering when he considered me to be the most reputable source.

i think another thing that always took me aback was when i’d meet someone from his life and they’d be like “oh i’ve heard so much about you!” or when people would mention these incredibly kind things he’d say about me when i wasn’t in the room. it’s because i knew that he wasn’t someone who shared a lot with others, so knowing that he chose to genuinely share how he felt about me with other people meant a lot.

anyone that knows nathan knows that he loves to argue. he mostly loves it because he knows that he’s right and will just talk circles around anyone- but i never gave him the opportunity to talk circles around me. he was a great bullshitter, but i could always see right through it, which meant one of his greatest arguing tactics was null and void. i eventually learned that there were things i was knowledgeable about that he knew nothing about, and i definitely would try to skew debates toward those things because i loved to watch him squirm. i think he loved the challenge, and that’s why we had so much fun debating. he was so accustomed to being right that i reveled in when he was wrong. i also reveled in the opportunities i had to teach him things- for some reason, he had no common sense, so i’d spend time explaining things like “how to send mail,” and “why you can’t use dish soap to wash clothes.” sometimes he would be genuinely surprised when he’d learn how much i knew about certain topics, or when he’d make a reference and i knew exactly what he was talking about.

perhaps the most satisfying and/or frustrating example of a time when i was right but he refused to accept it was when we were planning our wedding. when we were having the first discussion about it after getting engaged, i brought up the fact that i didn’t necessarily care about having an actual wedding. neither of us are religious and there’s not any traditions that i’m particularly drawn to- in all honesty, a lot of wedding traditions kinda gross me out. also, i really hate being the center of attention and that’s the definition of a wedding. the only part that was vaguely important to me was our vows- but once again, i hate being the center of attention so my plan was to write a long letter that i would give to him before the wedding, and then have a less extensive speech to give in front of everyone. so when it came to what my ideal wedding looked like, i suggested we just elope. my issue wasn’t with having people there, i was totally down to invite our close family to a casual courthouse situation wherever we were living for the actual getting married part. and then a few months down the line having a reception in texas to celebrate with all of our friends and family. like, realistically we couldn’t afford a wedding, and it also wasn’t something incredibly important to me. but he refused to listen to my suggestion. people always talk about a bridezilla, but i was totally chill when it came to wedding planning- he was the one with all the opinions. he was like “no, we have to have a real wedding. i can name like 200 people off the top of my head that we’d have to invite.” so i was like….okay dude i’ll see what i can do. i started putting together spreadsheets with venues and prices and dates and every time i presented the data to him he’d be like “we can’t afford that!!!! what is this??? also i hate the hill country and we have to have the wedding in abilene” and i was just like YEAH I TOLD YOU. it’s almost like i knew what i was talking about the entire time. i suggested trying to pare down the guestlist but he was dead set on having every person he’d ever met in his life there so i tried to accommodate that. eventually i was so frustrated with him shooting down all of my options that we were at a stand-still for wedding planning. and then one day, in the lamp aisle of target he turned to me and said, “you know, i’ve been talking to some of my friends about wedding stuff and a lot of them are saying they wish they’d just eloped instead of doing a full wedding. would you maybe want to do that? we could just use the money we would have spent on a wedding for a honeymoon” WOW THANK YOU for just regurgitating my original idea, i’ll let you pretend that you came up with this if it means we’ve come to an agreement.

we were both so surprised that we never really actually fought. but we very rarely had conflicts, and when we did we were really good at navigating it. i can only remember one time once we had started dating where i was genuinely upset with him and it was the only time where i really lost my temper in an argument- mostly because he was absolutely in the wrong but refused to admit it. but even then, by the next morning, he apologized and we had resolved the issue. other than that, the closest we got to fighting was the time that i was on the phone with my mom and was yelling at her because she was stressing me out so much and then the next day our neighbor stopped nathan in the hall to ask if he was okay because he “heard you and your girl arguing” and nathan was just like “oh no we’re good, she was just on the phone with her mom” loving him was definitely a choice sometimes, but even when it was tough, it was always worth it.

all of this is to say that being with him made me a better person. the way that he believed in me made it more possible for me to believe in me. the way he prioritized me made me feel like i deserved to be a priority. the way that he challenged me made me less afraid to speak my mind and more willing to stand my ground. we left things in a really good place, and that’s been one of the greatest gifts to me. it’s hard having to leave a relationship at its peak, but it’s also comforting having no regrets.

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i see him everywhere, in the weirdest places. sometimes when i look at myself in the mirror, i think of him. when i went to work i would do my makeup one of three ways: no makeup on a bad day, filled in eyebrows and mascara on most days, and full glam on important days, and without fail, he’d always stop to tell me that i looked nice on the days when i’d do the eyebrows and mascara. it’s a very specific way that i would look, and when i see myself looking like that, i think of how much he loved when i looked like that. every time i see cilantro, or pickles, or spearmint gum all i can think of is how much he hated those things. when i see a cute gif of an animal, i think of the little sound he’d always make right before he turned his computer screen to show me whatever cute animal he’d seen on the internet. when i’m in my bedroom and i laugh too loudly at something, i think about all the times when he’d be working in the living room and i would laugh from another room and he would text me to tell me that i have a cute laugh. when i go to the grocery store, or the liquor store i remember the dumb way he’d refer to both of those places (the chicken store, the vodka store). when i see froot loops, i think of eating breakfast in his abilene apartment when he was in the middle of moving out. or like, sometimes when i’m particularly sweaty, i think about how he used to describe me as having a “moist personality” right before he died, i bought a pajama set from walmart that i was obsessed with and his reaction was “oh, so this is the new outfit i’m going to see you wear for eight days straight” and now every time i wear the pajama shirt as a real shirt in public, that’s all i can think about.

+++

it’s hard to accept that things are over, but i know that i served my purpose. we accomplished so much in those two years. i watched nathan grow into himself and regain a lot of the confidence he had lost since high school. i watched him go from being a high-school drop out to getting his masters from columbia. i watched him get excited about his future. i’ve been so invested in his happiness for the last thirteen years, and seeing him find that happiness has meant so much to me. at the end of the day, i think the point of marriage is to have someone there when you die, and being able to be there for him when he died was an honor and a privilege. here’s what i learned from our relationship: i know that i am the luckiest person in the world to have been chosen by him. being with nathan has made me a better person. because of everything we’ve been through, i know that i have all of the tools- the confidence, the stability, the coping mechanisms- to move forward. even though i lost nathan, i gained a sense of community with everyone from his life that’s now become a bigger part of mine and that’s pretty dope.

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nszypher · 6 years

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Then It Got Better

I wrote up a bit of an emotional piece going over the timeline of my last couple of weeks involving my top surgery. It’s long, and I don’t expect most to read it, but I thought I would share all the same.

Tuesday, we drove down to Dallas. It was a half day affair. Mom went to work until just after noon so she could try and get them into a better place before leaving for just over a week. It gave me a chance to finish up anything I needed to do at the house before we left. We gassed up the car and then stopped for lunch before heading out of town. We accidentally ordered grilled chicken when we wanted breaded, and apologized as soon as we realized the mistake and asked if there was any way they could swap them out. They just gave us new breaded chicken. We both felt a bit bad but I did actually pay more for the grilled stuff. We drove through small towns, talking some and listening to a podcast mostly. The weather was nice. Our hotel was experiencing a problem with its keymaker, which meant that we were stood outside our door with half of our bags trying to get in, or waiting for a new key. The front desk person finally just let us in with her master key and promised she would have one working when we got back from dinner. We told her it was no problem, that it wasn't her fault, and went to dinner at the Magic Time Machine. We were served by a guy dressed up and acting like Nacho Libre, a movie I've never seen but do know a little about. Mom discovered she was allergic to Mahi Mahi, but otherwise, the meal was great and we did have a working key when we got back to the hotel, which was good because we also decided to stop by Walmart and pick things up before going back to the hotel.

Wednesday was the pre-op appointment. As uncomfortable as I was about things, and they were all things I knew was coming, they made it as nice and painless as possible. The surgeon, Dr. Dulin, was very professional, explained things very well and what they were going to do and why. He did have to touch my chest, and measure to see for sure what he was really working with since he had only seen pictures up to now. But he did with respect, I could tell, and it was over quickly. He even recognized that I would need a nipple reduction, something I had wondered about and was going to ask, but didn't have the chance. He already decided before I could. The nurse, Kristin, took before photos, asked me all about my medical history, which made me glad mom was there, and even gave us a very informative booklet with almost every bit of information we could possibly need about the procedure and what to expect before and after as well as risks and anything else. Dr. Dulin was nice and Kristin was nicer. And then they sent me off with prescriptions, telling me to make sure I walked away with four and that they'd be in touch to tell me, for sure, when I needed to be there in the morning. We went to Walmart to fill the prescriptions and waited so long for them to get filled. And then it was left overs from the Magic Time Machine for lunch and off to malls, on the way to which we got the call telling us to be there at 7:30 in the morning. We were enchanted by Northpark, a fusion of mall and museum, and fell in love with the Lego and Disney stores there. We are still, after all, just children. We got dad a Lego Batman keychain as thanks for watching all my animals while we were away. A Barnes and Noble across the way distracted us but we did end up at Galleria mall, which was also nice but not as cool. Dinner was at the Rodeo Goat and after that, it was home to try and get some rest before the big day, but not before a call from the anesthetist just to introduce herself to me and make sure I was feeling as good about it all as I could.

Thursday was the day.

They told me that would be the worst day. In many ways, it was. I didn't sleep well the night before, I got up entirely too early, I was very nervous, possibly for the first time really for this. They had a hard time getting an IV in me, and it was wholly unpleasant the two times they tried, the first blowing out a vein. Not their fault. I have finicky veins. And then I woke up and that was the worst. I couldn't see well for a while, and got very nauseous suddenly, which the care nurse was quick to take care of. I didn't catch her name, but I'm glad she was there. They waited to call my mom to pick me up until I felt better after that. It fortunately passed quickly but I was still miserable Of course I wasn't happy right after. I was in pain, I felt terrible. I wanted to curl up and go home and sleep and I was instead put in a car and our five minute drive back to the hotel turned into fifteen because mom got lost and I couldn't help her. But I did remember all the instructions they gave us, occasionally better than mom, and the shining light is they didn't know what my preferred pronouns were in the recovery room, so when they talked to my mom, they referred to me either as Kai, which everyone at the clinic had done, or "they/them" since those were neutral. The fact that even they cared in the recovery room, nurses I would only ever see once, meant a lot. And the rest of the day was filled with pills and Gatorade and uncomfortable shifting and not moving and even more sleeping than I'm used to. Mom bought ice packs while I was in surgery and made a point to go back to the hotel and get them frozen and ready for me in such a thoughtful measure only to be told don't use them. I think she thought it was forever, but looking back, I think they just meant that night. Not that it mattered. I don't know there was much that would've really made me feel any more comfortable or okay.

But then it got better.

Friday I went back for my first post-op. They asked how I was doing and remarked that I looked surprisingly well. I credit the Gatorade. They took me and removed the ace bandages they had wrapped around and on top of everything. And suddenly, I wasn't in so much pain or discomfort. I didn't realize that something so minor could make such a big difference. Kristin gave us maxi pads to help keep the binder from cutting into my skin, and showed mom how to cut little crescents out of them so they would fit around my arms. Kristin also loaned mom a pair of scissors to cut the pads with since all we had were tiny ones, like one on a pocket knife, and an extra binder when she heard we were in a hotel and didn't really have easy access to a washing machine or drier. I still only could manage to eat apple sauce and broth, a little cereal dispersed throughout, still fell asleep several times, still only had the brain space for Netflix movies. Mom and I got up ever few hours and walked the hallway on our floor. Mom even started writing down the pill schedule, when I took one and could take the next, since they had time restraints and had to be taken so long between each. She's much more organized than I often am.

And then it got better.

Saturday was a nice day, and we decided to walk around our hotel outside a couple of times. It was so nice to get out of the building and breathe some fresh air. I ate something more than just applesauce and cereal. I played video games until evening time, when we went back to Netflix. I was feeling pretty good. Still a little painful, but overall pretty good. Still couldn't do a lot for myself, but things weren't so bad anymore.

And then it got better.

Sunday we went to Target. Mom needed some things like a new bar of soap because hers had run out. She also wanted to get a CD. I wanted to get out of the hotel, even if it was only for ten minutes. We got our stuff and both agreed we didn't want to go back just yet. Getting out of the hotel was uplifting. We both were getting a bit stir crazy. So we slowly walked around the Target. She found a set of plush Porg and Porglets, and we both fell in love and she bought us both a set. Mom had never seen Moana and it was no longer on Netflix, so I bought the Blu-Ray. I found card sleeves I had wanted before Christmas but that were no longer sold in our Targets and got a set. We spent an hour or so in Target, and went we left, I bought us both coconut Bais to drink just to change it up. Later, when I realized my period had started, we walked to an Alberston's that was just around the corner, stopping in at the GameStop first. We got what I needed along with some new drinks to change it up as well.

And then it got better.

Monday, we hit a few malls. I don't remember which ones they were. They didn't make as big of an impact on my mind as the ones we went to before the surgery, but we went to a few. Mom and I, for the first time in a long time, moved at about the same speed, and had to stop just about as frequently to rest. We took my pills with me in case we needed to do any of them while we were out, but strategically waited until after lunch so we hopefully wouldn't have to. We stopped by the Half Price Books flagship store, which was massive, and spent hours in there just looking at the stuff. I bought an Italian soda, my first one ever, and it was really good. We spent too much money there, but I found something I've always wanted at a price I could actually afford. Mom was also on the hunt for a new purse, so after the bookstore, we made one last stop to a JC Penney, which to our surprise, was a stand-alone store and not part of a mall. And she found a purse that was just perfect and on sale for a price she didn't feel bad about paying for.

And then it got better.

Tuesday, we went to the zoo. It was always something I had wanted to do in Dallas ever since my first A-Kon down there when we rode past the exit for it on the tram at least twice a day. The zoo was so nice. The weather was perfect. We didn't even need jackets. In the children's zoo, there was an aviary where you could go in and interact with some birds. You could feed them stuff on a stick for a price but mom and I agreed we didn't need to do that. Still, as soon as we came in, one flew down and landed on my hand and just hung out with me for a while, almost as if he was happy I wasn't a screaming kid. They had so many cool exhibits, and their enclosures looked so nice. They even had one place where you could feed giraffes. Even if you weren't, you were allowed to go in and get right up next to them. I could've reached out and touched one. It was amazing. I've never seen anything like that. I've never experienced that with a giraffe before. We were so enamored with it that we missed the last part of the zoo, which was a bit sad because I would've liked to see the baby gorilla and lions, but the giraffe experience was something new. We stopped back by Half Price Books because a friend wanted something that I had gotten, promising to pay me back. Luckily, they did still have one for her too. For dinner, I was sick of the food we had in the hotel so I treated mom and I to the messiest crab legs I think I've ever eaten. It was a bit pricey, but she's worth it.

And then it got better.

Friday was my second post op appointment and the one where I would get to see, for the first time, the results and look at my future. We checked out of the hotel before going, and everyone was happy to see me. Dr. Dulin had, after doing all the things in the operating room, adhered foam onto my chest, then put a binder over it, and for 24 hours, wrapped that in an ace bandage. No wonder that first day was so miserable. And pulling the foam off was also miserable. I couldn't watch. I could barely even breathe. They did it as fast as they could, and mom said Dr. Dulin smiled when he saw the results of his work. And I smiled and uttered words of disbelief when I did too, which made him smile even more. He was pleased with the result, which is good since he is a perfectionist by everyone's account, and I was beyond words. I was seeing, for the first time, my body as I always thought it should be, albeit bruised and swollen and with a bit of marker still from the surgery so he did it all correctly. Kristin smiled with us, talked with us about this and that, our cat, the zoo, while also giving us all the supplies she thought we would need to at least get us through the next few days. Adhesive remover, tape, gauze. She loaded us up. We made plans for me to send photos in a month to check progress so I wouldn't have to try and make it back down to Dallas. And then we were out the door, checked out of the hotel and going to head back to normal life. We stopped back by Northpark because I wanted a keychain from the Lego store, and we decided to eat lunch there as well. We also attempted to find a compression shirt because Kristin told us we could use that instead of the binder if we found one that was snug enough. We couldn't. But we tried. We made one last stop by the Disney store where they were having a crazy sale on their plushies, so I bought a Koda and mom bought a Pua. Lego store trip then netted me a keychain, but I also bought mom one more thing as a huge thanks for being my rock this week. I couldn't have done it without her.

And then it got better.

I've been home for a few days now. Things are returning to normal. I've finished my course of antibiotics, dad acknowledged the letter I wrote and left for him. It might be the only discussion we have about it, but at least we had it. My pain is so much less now. I can drive and be mostly independent again. I think the swelling is going down. Surely. It's hard to tell for sure, but I already like what I see in the mirror better than what was there before, lingering bruises, marks, bits of foam, and swelling aside. I cannot accurately describe how different and happy I feel now that it's over. Over a year of planning, and half a life time of wanting, and it feels like it came and went so fast and yet, there's a whole future ahead now that looks a bit brighter than before. I know this won't fix all my problems. Dark days are still ahead, but at least I won't also hate myself on top of them. I'm not saying I wanted more fanfare. Really, that seems terrible, but for all the build up and wanting, it's hard to believe it's over. I had been focused on it for so long that I feel just a little empty now. Just a little. There's still so much more to do and see. And I'm ready for them just as soon as I'm done physically healing. But emotionally, and mentally, I've already done so much over the past few weeks. It's done, and I'm still happy to the point of tears about it.

#top surgery #personal story #nonbinary #then it got better

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pisati · 6 years

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my mom’s moods are something I’ve had to deal with my whole life. I don’t know that they’ve ever been that extreme, but they’re definitely the main reason I’m not comfortable talking to her and never have been.

I’ve seen those posts going around that say things like “if you make them uncomfortable coming to you for the little things, they’ll never come to you for the big things”, and that sentiment hits pretty hard. I’ve learned to choose my words carefully with her. even so, it was always hard to predict what she’d blow up about. I remember even in high school, writing that talking to my mom felt like walking in a minefield. I never knew what misstep I’d make, but inevitably I’d make one. not to mention she’d flip around over the littlest things and I never knew what she’d change her mind on. just a few months ago I told her, cautiously, that I’d wanted to try a keto diet to see how carbs affected my health. but I have no energy to make food. I asked if she could help me. she sounded almost excited about it, maybe she’d try it a little with me. she asked me a few times after that how my diet was going; I said I hadn’t started yet. I still just don’t have the energy to cook, and almost everything keto has to be prepped. I asked again if she could help me, she said no. just. flat-out no. uh, what?

I’ve always been sensitive and she knows that. she fucking knows. but when I clam up she gets even more mad. always has. since high school whenever she’d start shit with me and I didn’t feel like dealing with it or fighting back, I’d just get up and walk away. I’d get yelled at for “walking away from my problems”. yelled at for daring to vent by going up the stairs louder than usual, slamming my door. she still doesn’t understand that when I close myself off like that, it’s not avoiding my problems. it’s avoiding her. most of the time when I’d go to talk to her she’d get annoyed or snippy at me over something irrelevant, and I’d clam up.

I’ve also always had some weird behavioral things that I’ve had to work really hard to get myself through, but I still revert to that sometimes when I’m around her. it’s weird for me to show her I’ve changed. she’s told me many times how I was so hard on her. because I was shy and didn’t like attention and had social anxiety. she’d try to force me into this ‘normal kid’ mold and got mad when I didn’t fit. a year or two ago she was looking through old pictures and got this annoyed look on her face; I wasn’t looking at the pictures, so I asked what it was. she said it was from my 4th or 5th birthday party; we’d had my birthday party at one of those places like Chuck E Cheese, and I couldn’t handle it when it came time to sing Happy Birthday. now. by this point. my mom knew me well enough to know that I hated attention like that. I’m sure this was already after the time my kindergarten class performed a little song we learned in front of all our parents and I froze up entirely and had to get walked to the side by my teacher because I started crying. yet, still, we had to do the birthday thing. instead of maybe just not singing a stupid song that I couldn’t have given less of a shit about at the age of 5, my mom elected to have everyone do it anyway, and took pictures of me covering my face and crying. but it was my fault I was so miserable, of course. I was so hard on her.

but I’ve been wondering if her being so snippy and flip-floppy has affected my relationships with other people. I don’t think I’m as cautious with other people as I am with her, but I do have a similar lingering fear that one little thing I do will flip a switch. it’s not as overt as it is with my mom, but I feel like it’s there nonetheless. I think I’ve even been a little surprised when other people accept my ‘no’s. mom never really did. she’d pull me by the arm into pictures and then get upset when I looked miserable, but she knew I hated being in pictures. she’d sneak pictures of me when she thought I couldn’t see, and get upset at me when I got upset about it. she tried to physically force me out of my room once when she wanted to go somewhere with me and my brother and I didn’t want to go. she’d tell me I was the one making a scene, when all I did was say no. I don’t trust her with much. I don’t tell her anything about myself that I don’t think is safe for her to know; things she can’t hold over my head or turn against me somehow. and I used to wonder why I’d think can you be my mom? when an older woman was nice or caring towards me.

not to say my mom doesn’t try. she’s given me everything and then some. but... ya know? some people really want kids and still shouldn’t have them. she didn’t want a kid like me, she wanted a kid like my brother. I honestly don’t think she’d even like me if I weren’t her daughter. she’ll say she doesn’t pick favorites, but it’s obvious. I was so hard on her and my brother was such an easy, easygoing kid. she never laid her hands on him.

I don’t think I’d be like her, if I were a parent. at least I learned empathy. maybe my patience wears thin sometimes, but I’d prefer to talk it out than escalate it by yelling. especially if I knew my kid were sensitive. like, jesus.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the summer I got so sick and she lost her patience with me. I didn’t know what was wrong. all I knew was that I was nauseous and in pain and my emetophobia was acting up on top of my already-crippling anxiety, and it wouldn’t let up. I went to her crying once because I was in a horrific hours-long anxiety spiral that wouldn’t stop because I couldn’t just magically stop feeling sick. and for a few minutes she let me curl up on the bed next to her and she rubbed my back. but then when I didn’t stop crying she snapped at me. “you gotta stop feeling sorry for yourself”. I got up and left; staggered back to my room (because I hadn’t been able to eat; I was so weak), and she followed me. tried to force me to eat. we’d gone to a radiology center to get an abdominal CT, because I was in so much pain, but they gave me a ton of barium crap (maybe 32oz?) to drink in the space of about 30 minutes and I couldn’t do it. firstly it was flavored like vanilla milkshake and about the same consistency, which I wouldn’t touch even if I weren’t feeling like barfing, but secondly I was just in so much pain and I had hardly eaten anything in weeks. I was so scared I’d puke it up. mom started snapping at me, telling me I was wasting the doctors’ time and her time, because she had to take off work to take me there. eventually she grabbed the nurse after I’d started crying saying I just couldn’t do it; I barely got half of it down. they said it was fine. my scan came back fine. I had to practically beg her to take me to the ER after my results came back. I was so weak it took me a full minute to get down the stairs; holding on to the rail and the wall. I’d never been that afraid my legs would give out under me. I couldn’t even drink water at that point. she told me no at first, because my dad took my brother to the hospital once when he ate too much and he was fine, and then she had the ER bill for that to pay off. key difference, though, was that I couldn’t eat and I was actively dying. eventually I convinced her to take me. the following day, after she got home from work. I waited all day, dragged myself downstairs when she got home, slumped over the kitchen island because I couldn’t sit up, and she took her time looking through the mail and eating a slice of deli meat. after the whole hospital ordeal, when we learned that I just had a really fucking weirdly-manifested UTI, I had to put my clothes back on since they had me in a hospital gown. I told mom not to look, but then as I was pulling my shirt down I heard “you’re just so pretty!” I glared at her. “I couldn’t help it! you’re beautiful!” I had lost 40lbs and was probably near death, but thanks for that. pity me when I was gaining, right? then she told me she had tennis that night, and she just couldn’t cancel, because it was a USTA thing and they don’t have subs, so it would be inconveniencing everyone else, even if her daughter was just in the hospital. she left and I had to sit in the waiting area with my discharge papers, alone, until my brother could come pick me up.

but to this day she’ll still tell everyone how awful it was. poor girl. I was so sick.

fuckin hell, man.

no wonder I’m like this.

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hopevalegame · 6 years

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January 14th 2019

Robo-san update:

Well, there it is. My first three logs in order. Lots of improvement to make but you gotta start somewhere. The first one might look marginally better than the other two but it’s because I was following a model much more aggressively while number two was less reliant on the model and number three was entirely from my own head.

Anyhow here’s what I did today:

-13:15: Got up feeling nice and rested. Had a good night of sleep. Right before bed and while I was laying in bed for the first hour I started to feel nauseous but it eventually went away and I slept great and woke up without a single pain. I think I even had some nice dreams.

I could have gotten up earlier but I decided to get a couple more hours of sleep because it felt really good to be able to sleep normally. As soon as I got up I ate 3 blueberry / raisin muffins that Robo-chan made the night before.

- 13:34: I took my caffeine pill then got started on work.

- 15:38: Break

- 16:15: Ate 2 more muffins while Robo-chan was setting me up with her drawing tablet - 17:10: Realised the tablet gave me motion sickness. Felt dizzy and like throwing up. Needed to lay down on the couch for a while. -Around 17:50: Back to work -Around 18:30: Went to make some food (tofu with veggies and couscous + oisin salt sauce) -Around 19:45: Back to work -12:23: Finished.

So, by my count that’s 7 hours and 22 minutes but there was like thirty minutes of trying out the tablet and I might have low balled my hours a little bit because I forgot to write when I was getting started again. And now I’m off to go write because this game ain’t gonna write itself :). Anyway, good job!

Today’s score: 8 / 10. Nice!

Tomorrow’s goal: Make 3 more logs and post them up here.

-Robo-san

Robo-chan update:

:( BAD WORK DAY.

I won’t let this happen again tomorrow.

-Robo-chan

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cosmosogler · 8 years

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hi guys. i got up at like 7:30, found out the school was closed until 10, and went back to bed. then i got up for my psychiatrist appointment, got a call that it was canceled, and went back to bed. no meds for me. i promised the counter lady i’d reschedule the appointment tomorrow when i would be at the health center for my regular doctor’s appointment.

then i realized my doctor’s appointment was during my si outreach event, so i would have to reschedule that too. luckily, that ended up not being a problem.

my first class was canceled due to the blizzard so i got to relax and try to do homework. except i got an email that i had missed the drop/add deadline for my si training class, so i’d have to fill out the override form and get 3 magical artifacts i mean signatures and deliver the paperwork to the registrar. i went to the slc first to get my supervisor’s signature. she wasted a whole bunch of time talking about stuff i’d already finished doing. then she put me in front of a computer to write a paragraph about how i didn’t know that the drop/add deadline for this 8-week courses was only the 19th, as it had been a 2-week period in previous semesters and was just changed with no notice. i finished it in about a minute and went back to her office to find she had popped over to her neighbor. so i sat outside that office for 10 minutes, getting more antsy and sick. my supervisor finally came out and asked if i’d been waiting for her to print the paragraph, and i said i’d been waiting for ten minutes. she printed it out for me and told me where i needed to go to get the other two signatures. i was gonna do that, but i had to grab a snack first, as i hadn’t eaten in a very long time.

then when i got back to the physics department i got ANOTHER email about my nasa project, which also had paperwork due today. so i printed that out and started filling it out, and then i had to go to class without even getting to start my homework.

immediately upon stepping outside the physics lounge i felt extremely nauseous. it was the worst it’s been in the whole four weeks i’ve been sick, other than when i try to brush my tongue and stick the toothbrush in too far. i’ve been more careful about that lately though. i hobbled over to the math department, put my backpack down, stared at the floor for a few seconds, and immediately went in the bathroom and dry heaved for like 6 minutes. i missed the beginning of class. jay asked where i was about halfway through the class and cody pointed at me. i waved at him. i told heather i was feeling really seriously sick, and spent the whole class sweating and staring at my desk in the back.

after class jay managed to talk me into getting some lunch. i was feeling a little better, so i promised myself i’d only eat a little bit, so i didn’t upset my stomach further. i had some sweet potatoes and a cup of thai tea, which was probably a mistake. i joked around with jay and rob and then we went to quantum 2. i put my backpack down and then had to run to the bathroom to puke for reals. then my nose started bleeding, and my eyes got dry and itchy and painful. i was a little shaken up, since i can usually handle my nausea better than that. i asked the professor if i should go to the health center or if he would prefer i go after class and he practically kicked me out. the walk to the health center was the longest walk i’ve ever been through. even though it was about 3 minutes away.

i talked to the lady at the front desk and she canceled my appointment for tomorrow in order to get me in right then. i couldn’t tell if the doctor was happy or annoyed when she asked some questions and i launched into my entire medical history and every conversation i’ve had over the last 4 weeks relating to my illness. she had me lay back on the table and put her hand on my right side, which surprisingly hurt actually a lot. she said something about my gallbladder and left to set up an appointment with the hospital. she asked if i had any plans for the afternoon or if could see them immediately and i said i had some paperwork to finish, but no classes. but the radiologist at the hospital was too busy today, so i gotta go on thursday morning at like 7. i get the feeling that since the radiologist thinks it’s going to take longer than an hour and a half he might be checking on more than one internal organ.

i rescheduled my appointment with my psychiatrist and trudged over to the offices i needed to get signatures from, and turned in that paperwork. then i finished my nasa project application and told my quantum professor i was still alive. and i contacted all my morning professors about missing class on thursday. i’ve missed more school than i’ve attended so far this semester between the funeral, the weather, and now this.

i talked to rob a bit on the way home since we ran into each other on the bus. we talked about the nasa project and what the week looked like for me. i was in a lot of pain, but it started fading by the time i got home. it took 50 minutes to get home.

i ate a veggie dog for dinner, and when i only felt a little nauseous, i made a second one and had some fruit, which had started to look a little weird after i didn’t have time to eat it last week. so i only had a little bit. and i STILL didn’t get any homework done! gotta try to get up early tomorrow morning and try again. i don’t know if i can manage jazzercise tomorrow though, my stomach area is still pretty uncomfortable even though i haven’t eaten anything else for hours.

and my dad blew me off when i complained about a sharp pain in my side on saturday! and mom blew me off too at the airport when it first started. that airplane ride was so long, but not as long as the time i had shigella and was actually dying and the plane ride took about 19 hours. or maybe it was just 9. i can’t remember any more. definitely at least 19 hours total travel time from malawi to south africa to georgia to arizona.

anyway, i’ve been having random symptoms and various pains in different areas that come and go for four weeks now. nothing really consistent other than generally feeling like something’s wrong. like even yesterday evening when i was feeling fine physically i still would have described myself as “sick” somehow.

i might have to miss more class, depending on how i feel tomorrow. at least i have the doctor’s appointment note for thursday, so i’ll only really get one unexcused absence. but i’m hoping to feel ok enough for class tomorrow. i really need to do this homework... gotta pull myself together somehow.

i guess in a way i kind of hope something is seriously wrong. i guess it would make me feel justified, in a way? like no wonder i feel terrible and have no patience for anything, i had some serious illness that wasn’t treated! and the first doctor said i had vertigo for some reason!

i’ve been writing this post for a half hour. i should try to sleep. today, despite getting up kind of late, was very densely packed. i still haven’t told my parents i need an ultrasound, partially because i left my phone at home today on accident. but i think i’ll wait until i get some results before i say anything. mom kind of freaks the hell out when something is wrong.

maybe i’m burying my emotions about the whole thing, because i sure don’t have any strong feelings about it. i didn’t really have strong feelings about grandma’s death either, except a seriously delayed reaction to seeing her dead body. i didn’t have any super strong feelings about glenn either, except getting annoyed when he called me “sweetie.” if this had been ten years ago his presence would have really rustled my jimmies. i guess i’ve stopped feeling too upset about losing my pokemon game too. i just feel a kind of heavy dark deadness when i think about it. the only thing that really makes me lose my temper is being unable to articulate my feelings to jim. i guess because i don’t have any feelings? i gotta be feeling SOMETHING, though, because my homework is as done as raw steak, and i don’t usually completely ignore it when it’s open right in front of me unless i’m upset about something else. dr. cole has been really gentle with me about the nuclear homework and my last grad school application, and my laplace transforms professor said i could have an extra day to turn in my make-up work, and hogan said i should take my time looking over his notes from quantum today, and i got a quick recap about the class from rob, so everyone is being pretty nice about everything... even jay said he was sorry about my grandmother. maybe there’s something about my face or posture i’m not noticing.

i keep wanting to cry but i can’t... quite... make the tears come out of my eyes. i wanted to talk to my psychiatrist about it, but i’m seeing a different doctor on monday since she’s booked through like all of february. i am at least getting a refill on my current meds. i’m worried about how much progress i’m going to make with this new therapist, wei luo. if i can’t get myself through all this garbage before the end of the semester i’ll be really disappointed. and maybe not as emotionally prepared for grad school as i would like to be. at least i’m not getting so many random panic attacks frequently throughout the day. maybe i’m tiring myself out doing all this running around.

i gotta try to sleep. it’s almost 11 now. i started writing before 10:15. but i think it was good to get all these thoughts down somewhere. i haven’t had a lot of time to think about what’s going on, but i keep doing it anyway, so maybe writing it down will help me stop thinking about this and think about important things like my schoolwork and falling asleep for a little bit.

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sending-the-message · 7 years

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I found a notebook in an abandoned house, and now I've got a headache that won't go away by toomuchfog

I’m what you would call “between homes” right now. Without getting into details, let’s just say that my life hasn’t exactly panned out the way I’d like it to, and I’ve been drifting across this great country of ours for the better part of two years.

A few months ago, I found a notebook. It’s lonely being a wandering hermit. I love books, though, and I’ll read whatever I can get my hands on. I’ve been staying in abandoned houses for the most part -- in this economy, they aren’t hard to come across. I wouldn’t exactly say that I’ve been living the high life, but I’m usually able to find a roof to put over my head and a couch to sleep on.

You’d be surprised what people leave behind. Electronics don’t work without power, but people leave behind entire collections of books. I was staying at this one house, up in Washington, I think it was, and I found an entire private home library all about living off the land and such. I think that’s the house where I found the notebook. I just sort of grabbed it along with a few other books about camping and roughing it -- I figure if I can get my hands on a sleeping bag and a good tent, I can set up camp in the woods instead of in people’s abandoned living rooms.

The notebook is freaking me out. That’s why I’m posting it here. I’ve read and re-read it a dozen times or so, and it’s honestly starting to scare me.

I’ve transcribed the notebook here. I censored certain parts of it -- I don’t want anyone coming after me or anything. I don’t think the contents of this notebook are particularly dangerous, but I don’t want to take any chances. The guy’s handwriting deteriorates towards the end and is downright atrocious in places, but I think I’ve copied it correctly for the most part. I’ve been having some trouble with my hands cramping lately -- just a side-effect of living on the road. I was able to soak them in warm water a few nights ago, and that seemed to help. Hell, maybe I’m getting arthritis or something.

Shoot, I’ve been rambling. Like I said, I found the notebook somewhere in Washington. I can’t remember the name of the town where I was staying or anything like that. I just remember that every house looked like it had been abandoned, and there was no sign of anyone. It really freaked me out. I didn’t stay for more than a night, and even that felt like it was too long.

[DATE REDACTED]

5:15 - 6:03 a.m. -- So far, four large vehicles have passed. Cannot tell what they are. Think they are vans or trucks. Cannot make out license plates. They keep their lights off. Cannot tell who is driving or how many people are inside each vehicle.

7:26 a.m. -- Vans. They’re definitely vans. Have only seen one since the sun came up. It’s a white van with a red and blue logo on the side. Logo is of a large satellite dish. The words SATELLITE REPAIR COMPANY are printed below it in black letters. Cannot find logo anywhere on internet.

11:56 a.m. -- SATELLITE REPAIR COMPANY van is parked across the street. Has been there for over an hour. No one has gotten in or out of the van.

12:45 p.m. -- Developed a headache at approximately 12:10 p.m. Took [MEDICATION REDACTED] at 12:12 p.m. Headache has not improved, has only gotten worse. Cannot take more pills. Need to lie down. Van has not moved. No one has gotten in or out of van.

3:28 p.m. -- Woke up approximately 15 minutes ago. Headache gone. Van gone.

6:02 p.m. -- TV is not working properly. Static keeps cutting through Channel [REDACTED]. Ate dinner.

[DATE REDACTED]

3:33 a.m. -- Woke up approximately 30 minutes ago with violent stomach cramps. Attempted to take [MEDICATION REDACTED], was unable to keep it down. Vomited.

4:58 a.m. -- Abdominal cramping has subsided. Vomiting has stopped. Am unable to fall back asleep. Van is again parked across the street. Am unable to read license plate or see van’s occupants.

5:30 a.m. -- Am experiencing more abdominal cramping. Have consumed Saltines and ginger ale. So far, have been able to keep it down. Van is still parked across the street. Same van as yesterday.

11:46 a.m. -- Have watched van all morning. Van has not moved. No one has gotten in or out of van. Can see license plate number [REDACTED]. Have done Google search on SATELLITE REPAIR COMPANY and [REDACTED LICENSE PLATE NUMBER]. No results.

1:59 p.m. -- Man has gotten out of rear passenger’s side door of van. Am unable to see into van. Man is approximately 5’10”, 175 lbs, 30-40 years old. Caucasian. Dark brown hair. Blue eyes. Wearing dark gray coveralls and workboots. Appears to be wearing a mask. The lower half of his face is obscured. His mouth and nose are covered. There appears to be a tube connecting the mask on his face to a backpack-like apparatus. Most likely a respirator of some sort. Why would he be wearing a respirator? Man paced back and forth briefly before opening rear passenger’s side door and climbing back into van.

2:15 p.m. -- Am developing headache. Have taken [MEDICATION REDACTED].

2:46 p.m. -- [MEDICATION REDACTED] is not working. Headache growing worse.

3:15 p.m. -- head hurts so much. Can’t stay near window anymore. Need to lie down.

7:19 p.m. -- Woke up on floor next to bed. Cannot remember how I got here. I could’ve sworn I closed the curtains and lay down in my bed.

7:32 p.m. -- TV isn’t working.

8:57 p.m. -- Decided to ask [NEIGHBOR’S NAME REDACTED] about the van. Assumed that [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] has been having problems with his TV. Went to [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] and asked about TV problems. [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] has not been having trouble with TV and has not called any repair service. However, [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] has noticed the van. [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] saw the van’s driver and described an “average-looking Hispanic or Latino man.” [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] could not recall height, weight, or age. Described the man as having dark brown or black hair and brown eyes. Stated that man was wearing gray coveralls and that he appeared to be wearing a respirator. Man briefly exited the driver’s side door of the vehicle. Damn, I wish [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] was more observant.

[DATE REDACTED]

3:57 a.m. -- I don’t remember going to bed last night. I don’t remember anything that happened after speaking with [NEIGHBOR REDACTED]. I woke up on my couch. The TV was on, displaying bluish-white static. Am experiencing mild abdominal cramping and minor pain in hands and fingers.

4:36 a.m. -- I don’t remember writing that last journal entry. I woke up in my bed feeling perfectly fine. I looked out the window. There are no vans or suspicious persons about.

5:09 a.m. -- Woke up to the sound of someone moving around in my backyard. I checked out the window and saw a man digging through my garbage cans. I armed myself and went outside to check. When I got out there, the man was gone. The garbage cans were disturbed, one was overturned. I cannot tell if anything important is missing. Thank God I shred all my junk mail.

7:48 a.m. -- Am experiencing severe abdominal cramping. Have vomited twice. Have attempted to take [MEDICATION REDACTED], am unable to keep it down. Am considering calling a doctor.

10:58 a.m. -- Woke up in the bathtub. Was covered in vomit. Showered and cleaned the tub, felt perfectly fine. Ate saltines, ginger ale, and hard-boiled eggs.

12:09 p.m. -- The van is back. Armed myself and went to investigate. All windows are tinted, even the windshield. Was unable to see inside. Knocked on windows and tried to open door. No luck. Was unable to gain access to the van or determine who/what is inside of it.

2:32 p.m. -- Van still parked outside.

3:00 p.m. -- Am experiencing pain in hands. Am having trouble moving fingers and holding small objects. [UNINTELLIGIBLE]

5:47 p.m. -- Fell asleep in chair by window. Had nightmare about my fingers fusing together, turning my hands into lobster claws. Had trouble getting out of chair. It felt like the chair was stuck to the backs of my legs. Finally managed to get out of chair. Went to kitchen, consumed saltines, ginger ale, and hard-boiled eggs. Unable to stomach anything else.

5:57 p.m. -- Developing headache. Took [MEDICATION REDACTED].

6:14 p.m. -- Headache getting worse. Seeing spots on edges of vision. Feeling dizzy and nauseous. Unable to stand up. [UNINTELLIGIBLE] Experiencing abdominal cramping.

9:46 p.m. -- Woke up in bed. Left leg is swollen. There is no pain, but the leg is bruised and swollen to twice its normal size. Am unable to move it. Hands feel numb. Am having trouble moving fingers.

10:10 p.m. -- Left leg still swollen and bruised. Am unable to move it. Managed to drag self to window. Van no longer parked outside. Saw [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] taking his garbage out. Sight of [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] filled me with anger. I’ve always liked [NEIGHBOR REDACTED]. He’s a good man, very friendly and always helpful. I have no reason to hate him. I know I have no reason to hate him. Seeing him filled me with rage. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and choke the life out of him. If my left leg hadn’t been so swollen and immobile, I think I would’ve run outside and killed him where he stood. God help me, I wanted to hurt him.

[DATE REDACTED]

1:17 a.m. -- Woke up with pain in left leg. Left leg still swollen and bruised. My foot is now facing the opposite direction. I am unable to move it. Have tried calling 911. Phones are not working. Am unable to put any weight on left leg. Right leg twitches and jitters, but refuses to cooperate or do what I tell it. Re-read yesterday’s entries. I have no memory of them. Am scared.

4:58 a.m. -- head hurts so bad. Seeing spots and stars in peripheral vision. Am afraid to go to sleep. Had nightmare about hands becoming lobster claws again, but this time, I killed [NEIGHBOR REDACTED]. In the dream, my legs were large fleshy tentacles and I slithered across the street. [UNINTELLIGIBLE] smashed lobster claw hands against [NEIGHBOR REDACTED]’s face. Ripped his eyes out and ate them. Woke up covered with sweat. Need help. Can’t move legs.

9:06 a.m. -- Heard [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] knocking on my door at approximately 7:00 a.m. Sound filled me with rage. I started screaming at [NEIGHBOR REDACTED], threatening to kill him. Was able to press my hand over my mouth to stifle the noise. I don’t think [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] heard, as he went away and has not come back. After [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] left, I discovered that I had shoved my entire hand into my mouth, up to the wrist. My fingertips were scraping against my tonsils, but this did not activate my gag reflex at all. When I finally pulled my hand out of my mouth, it was covered in blackish-brown sludge.

need to call police need doctor so much pain oh dear god so much pain go away [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] go away because i want to kill you want you dead want to rip your eyes out and eat them want to tear your tongue out want to bite your fingers off want to kill you want you dead dead dead want blood everywhere want it need it [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] run run run run run [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] run run run [UNINTELLIGIBLE] mother of god someone please help me pain everywhere legs can’t feel legs legs won’t cooperate won’t move hands lobster claws nowhere is safe nothing is safe oh god mother of god god almighty cramping so bad want to vomit can’t vomit teeth falling out my god my teeth are falling out they’re here now they’re pounding on the door it’s not [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] it’s the van men the van men are here something in the air there is something in the air they know they’ve done something to the air [UNINTELLIGIBLE] don’t let them in can’t let them in door won’t hold them forever [UNINTELLIGIBLE] what have they done oh dear god what have they done to me

The notebook ends here. I’m having trouble remembering the house I took it from. Like I said, I didn’t read it until I’d hitchhiked at least two to three hours away. I wasn’t in the house for long, just a night. This whole thing is probably someone’s creative writing exercise, right? I mean, it can’t be serious. I feel fine. I mean, I had a minor headache this morning, but it wasn’t anything serious. It wasn’t a migraine like the ones described in this notebook. I haven’t been sleeping well or eating particularly healthily. That’s probably it. I can’t remember the last time I had a piece of fresh fruit or a vegetable. That’s probably it. I’m sure that once I get some decent food in me and a good night’s sleep in a warm dry bed, I’ll feel better. This notebook’s probably a hoax. Some poor dope knew that he’d be evicted, so he left a prank behind for potential squatters.

I wish this headache would go away, though.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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